Legacy of Toxythe: Chapter One
by Psycho-Jester
Summary: A World of Warcraft story about my character, Toxythe.


Legacy of Toxythe

A World of Warcraft Story.

Note: I do not own World of Warcraft, even though I own the character Toxythe on the Suramar realm.

Chapter One, Dawn of a Rogue Spirit:

Bound to the iron will of the tyrant Lich King, the vast undead armies of the Scourge seek to eradicate all life on Azeroth. Led by the banshee, Sylvanas Windrunner, a group of renegades broke away from the Scourge and freed themselves from the Lich King's domination. Known by some as the Forsaken, this group fights a constant battle not only to retain its freedom from the Scourge, but also to slaughter those who would hunt them as monsters. With Sylvanas as their banshee queen, the Forsaken have built a dark stronghold beneath the ruins of Lordaeron's capital city. This hidden Undercity forms a sprawling labyrinth that stretches beneath the haunted woods of the Tirisfal Glades. Though the very land is cursed, the zealous humans of the Scarlet Crusade still cling to their scattered holdings, obsessed with the eradication of the undead and retaking their homeland. Convinced that the primitive races of the Horde can help them achieve victory over their enemies, the Forsaken have entered an alliance of convenience. Harboring no true loyalty for their new allies, they go to any lengths to ensure their dark plans come to fruition. The members of the Forsaken have a simple task - to massacre any who pose a threat to the new order, human, undead or otherwise. That is what they are, that is who they are, and they won't stop until their new order is unopposed.

A lone member of the Horde's Forsaken race, has just been accepted as a recruit. Unaware that his services are to fight and join the Horde's many ranks of heroes. This was predetermined as the body type that the former corpse had was that of a lean athlete. Now awakened with the dark magic of Warlocks, the muscularly lean corpse of a fallen man is reanimated into Horde's legion of heroes. The reliving body coughed as the dusty air of a tomb called the Shadow Grave entered the figures unused lungs. He attempted to open his eyes in attempt to adjust himself, it was then he discovered that he was blind. A semi-fleshed hand reached to feel about his head, and two leather straps crossed his head, over his eyes. Feeling his head further back he felt a series of spiked towers that leaned backwards. He could only assume it to be his hair. A deep, yet hallow laughter came from besides where the newly reanimated body chilled him. "So, you've finally awakened, rogue."

"Where am I?" The newly undead muttered with a dried throated cough that followed. The only answer he received was a dark laugh which was followed by a blatant stare from the one whom stood over him.

"You are wtithin the Shadow Grave. We have brought your body back to serve us, one with a lean body." Another hallow laughter erupted from the summoner's throat. "You are an undead like myself, but you are not mindless like that of the Lich King's Scourge. Feel lucky, young one, for you have been blessed with your own will and powers of thought." The summoner walked about the newly living figure in an attempt to examine him. "Tell me, what is your name?" The undead questioning the other walked away a little and sat down.

Now sitting on the lengthy summoning altar and shaking his head due to the resurrection that he was subject to, he attempted to focus about his former name as a human. A few names came together but none seemed to fit with his persona. "I can't remember." The unnamed undead just sat there with his head within his hands from the headache. "Do you know? Do you know who I am?" The newly living spoke.

There was no immediate response, but the aura that the summoner gave off seemed to represent 'no.' Then finally it was said. "I'm sorry, but we choose whom we bring back based on physique, mental power, or spiritual power." A pause came. "We chose you due to your physique. It seemed almost perfect for a rogue within our legion."

"I see." The undead upon the altar muttered. "So I am a chosen rogue, to serve our master, and our allies? I see now." The rogue propped himself off of the altar and gestured his head as if looking around. "Seeing how I have yet to remember my former name from when I was living, I will give myself a new name." A moment passed as the rogue thought over the possibilities. What was a suitable name for such a rogue, then it struck him. "Toxythe."

"Toxythe, is it? Very well, then." The summoner reached for his quill and quickly dabbed it within a ink pot. For a moment he let it sit and after that moment he drew it out and scratched out the name in a log book that was kept. "Then, you will serve the Horde as a rogue; we hope to hear about you as a hero soon." With that the summoner stood and smiled. In return Toxythe nodded and started up and out of the tomb, using a unique gift given, a six sight.

As he started out, he slowly hunched up the stairs and then stopped. "I will not let the Horde down."

Only a chuckle came from the room. "We know, you are Forsaken, rogue."


End file.
